by A.N. Meade
them. If the Maker does not care, then His rules do not apply. The hunger you feel now, the taste for violence, it is hard to reconcile with Christian beliefs. Think of the lioness, she can be violent and blood thirsty, but she is also beautiful. However deadly she is, she is still one of God’s creatures. God made the beauty in her, along with the darkness.”
Aimee sat up and leaned into Liam. His arms enfolded her like the branches of some great tree. She felt protected, as he continued to try and answer her questions. “Aimee, dig deep into the scriptures. Reconcile the words with your own experiences. I think that you will find that there is just as much truth as lies in what you’ve been taught. Life is about having a personal relationship between you and God. Ask Him, and I believe He will help you.”
Liam’s words made sense, and they helped her feel a sense of comfort. “Do you speak to Him often, Liam?”
“Every day.”
“And does he answer you?”
“Yes, but not always in the way that I would like. It’s kind of like talking to you. I get a response, but it often leaves me in bewilderment.”
Liam smiled broad and big. The sight of him on the verge of laughter was borderline frightening. Aimee did not want to be frightened any more than she wanted to be amused. She wrinkled up her forehead, grabbed her pillow, and smacked him on the side of the face with it.
“That’s not funny!”
Liam just kept laughing and fell back, pretending to be overtaken by her. Aimee was still hitting him with the pillow as Marc walked in.
“Okay, so I guess you’re taking the news well?”
Aimee put the pillow down and leaned back against the headboard. She didn’t know what she would do without these moments of levity. As important as the happy glimpses she could find even greater need for them in Marc. He had seemed so beautifully calm and content once. His peacefulness had been irreparably shaken by these battles with Damian. Aimee was even more resolved now to find an answer on her own. There was an idea growing inside her. There was a thought that flashed briefly behind her eyes. She would consider everything that Damian desired in her, and she would destroy it. She would suffocate every aspect that appealed to him, but she would not bury her ambitions there. She would rebuild herself into something that he feared. Damian knew nothing of respect or of compromise. Fear would do instead. He showed her the face of the monster behind his perfect mask. In rage, hate, and want, he gave her a glimpse into himself. She knew his ferocity, but Aimee also knew his vulnerabilities. A smile swept across her face at the thought, she was about to slice them wide open, and watch the beast bleed out.
Aimee’s eyes must have shown that she had drifted away. Liam broke the silence first. “Aimee, have I ever told you that you are incredibly creepy when you smile like that?”
Aimee blinked and focused in on Marc and Liam who were staring at her, attempting to read her mood. She was happy, almost school girl giddy with this idea that gave her hope that she was not so helpless after all. Liam had walked over by the window. Marc sat down on the bed beside Aimee. It was good to see something other than panic and pain written on her face. He missed her. Leaning in toward her, Marc whispered, “I think it’s sexy.”
She kissed him quickly and chastely, teasing him with all of the truth of the thoughts which he saw in her eyes. “That is because you are a masochist.”
“Am I?” He quipped back as his eyes tracked her movement to the other side of the room.
She glanced back at him for a second over her shoulder. “You must be.”
Aimee’s attention was now drawn to Liam whose expression had grown serious. “Tell me what’s happening, Aimee. You know that I will do everything I can to help you.”
She believed him. There were a precious few people that Aimee trusted, and Liam was one of them. “The three of us are long overdue for some time together. Let’s go somewhere together tomorrow and enjoy each other’s company.” In truth, all Aimee wanted right now was a distraction, and some time to consider her course of action before letting anyone else in on it.
Liam, like Marc, had learned quickly that it was useless to argue with Aimee. She was headstrong. If he pushed her, he knew she would push back that much harder. Liam would let her choose their activity, and hope that in letting her feel comfortable, she would choose to share what was happening with him. “Where would you like to go, Aimee?”
“We could go down to the gorge. It’s warm enough now, and besides, I feel safer if we stay here on our own property.” It was hard even now for Aimee to voice her opinion of the things she wanted. Something as simple as a destination still made her feel town between her own inclinations, and her desire to please others.
Liam would not have cared really where Aimee chose, but he understood her, and her need to weigh every decision. “You’re right. The weather is certainly good enough now for some time by the river, and with us going somewhere so close, I get to sleep in.”
There was mischievousness to Liam’s smile that brought out his eyes in a striking way. His presence was calming, and his sense of humor contagious. Aimee wished sometimes that he had someone to bring out that side of him more. She knew how much her relationship with Marc had made both of their lives better. Liam deserved some happiness. The thought was amusing, but in reality there was no woman that she could think of, either real or fictional that would be a match for him. It is well known that there are no females of his kind. They were never meant to pair up or to reproduce.
There was one time, recorded in the book of Exodus, where some had tried to do just that, and with human women no less. The entire thing ended in terrible catastrophe. God killed them all, even their children. They were an abomination in his eyes. What they did was never meant to be. It’s hard not to wonder how it is that such a creature could be so deplorable in the eyes of God that annihilation is all that they deserve. In that respect, it is hard to see how vampires did not meet the requirements for this automatic death sentence. Thinking about how God must view vampires as a creation was an overwhelmingly immense thing to contemplate.
“You are far away from us, my love, where have you gone?” Even lost in such complex thought, Marc could draw Aimee’s gaze to meet his wit the slightest change in posture and tone.
Aimee had worked too hard to lighten the mood for her to darken their thoughts with the endless possibilities of God’s approval or disapproval as it may be. “You know how my mind can wander." Her answer was simple and her smile bright enough that Marc relented to her desire to keep those thoughts to herself.
“Let’s go to bed, and set your mind to rest.” Marc cuddled in beside her on the bed. His proposition was in the most polite of wording, but his voice carried a heavy dose of seduction that was comforting, familiar, and full of promise.
“On that note,” Liam said heading toward the door, “I will see the two of you in the morning.”
Life and Death Are One
The next morning, Aimee found herself awake and staring at the mahogany tiles on the bedroom ceiling. The house was full of those same intricate details. There were so many that in quiet times like these, she would often notice those small details and take a moment to appreciate what must have went into creating them. At the time they had been made, it is impossible that they were mass produced. Each tile must have been hand carved. The patter must have taken hours of concentration, and years of training and skill. It is a great sacrifice for a human to devote so much of their life’s energy to a trade craft. There are so few craftsmen now.
Marc had been awake for several minutes, admiring the details of Aimee’s face and the cascade of wild blonde hair that framed it. He loved that she could be so content admiring artistic details and thinking of times long past. Marc was alive when those tiles were crafted. The craftsman was actually a close friend of his. He was a young man when they met, the son of a small village farmer. He had learned the cra
ft from his grandfather, and elaborated upon it with a degree of natural talent that was unmatched. He had never been formally trained. He had never seen the Louvre, or floated a canal in Venice under the stars. He knew nothing of the art created by the masters of his day, and yet they shared the same creativity and ambition. Marc wondered if Aimee could see the boy in his work, or if she imagined a different kind of man altogether.
“What do you see in them?” Marc asked when Aimee approached him.
She took some time to think before she replied. “I see beauty.” Her answer was simple and honest. It was exactly the kind of answer that Marc had come to appreciate from Aimee in these rare, still moments.
“So do I.” Marc whispered gently in Aimee’s ear as he kissed the side of her face and smiled. He wrapped his arms around her, crossing them tightly around her waist. “Now, let’s go and enjoy our morning together.”
“What happened to sleeping in?” Aimee teased. He could so easily awaken the playful side of her.
“If I stay here another minute with you, I will not be able to tear myself from this room for days.” The hunger in his eyes flashed wildly. He meant every word. This was not what she had planned for today, however.
Aimee jumped up quickly and threw the covers back behind her onto Marc. “You and I are